Baby Caleb from the Baskets
by bronxa
Summary: Conlon's girl leaves him, but she leaves something behind...Caleb. Now the Leader of Brooklyn is faced with raising a child, and four year olds can be difficult.
1. Moses King of Baskets

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Chapter summary : Caleb finds himself lost in the crowded streets of New York. While playing ,four year old , Caleb effortlessly finds himself accused of stealing a paper from an intimidating newsie.

Disclaimer: No, don't own Newsies or any of the characters (except Vivian and Caleb.) One question though.. If you own stock in Disney, you kinda do own newsies then don't you? You just have to share it.

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"Vivian Harvey? That's your mother's name boy?"

The little boy nodded.

"And what's your name then, son?"

"Caleb" The shy boy told the old man, barely able to get his name out right with his thick accent.

"Caleb. Alright Caleb all you have to do is sit right here and I'll find your mommy for you alright?"

Caleb shook his head crossly. "No. I, I can't." He pouted his lip and crinkled his forehead. "The last I saw her, she was over there." He said pointing to the other side of the street filled with empty baskets that someone was hopelessly trying to sell. For a moment he looked at his feet and blinked up at the man towering over him, who seemed to be deciphering what he had just said. *You know how children are difficult to understand? Well how about a kid with an Irish accent?*

The man, not thinking that it mattered where the boy waited, gave him permission. "Is that so? Well then I reckon you should sit over there how about that?"

"That's fine enough." He croaked as he scuttled over to the opposite wall. The sun was harshly beating on his face and Caleb wished he hadn't refused the chance to sit in the comfortable shade. Now the old man was speaking to someone else. They pointed at him a few times and then the other rushed off on his mission. Caleb leaned against the wall and slid down to sit in the dusty road. He and Mommy had gone out on errands an hour ago. And now where was she? He had just looked at the pretty bird and next thing he knew he was all alone, with only strangers in sight. In a strange new city how could he ever find his mommy? Now he felt like he would never see anyone he knew again. He drew pictures in the dirt as he thought. The world was silent to him, all he wanted was to see a familiar face anyone he knew or recognized. By now his freckled cheeks were muddy from sweat and grime. His brown hair was dirty and messy with dust. And he was sure he had something caught in his left eye that he couldn't get out. He stood up and wiped his dirty hands on his pants. After examining them he remarked "Clean." as if someone would pop out of no-where and reward him for his triumph. Now he stood over his dirt drawings.

"There goes the apple." he said and stomped on what vaguely appeared to be some sort of fruit.

"Now dog… " he said addressing the picture of a dog chasing a cat. "…you know cats don't like being chased much, don't you…?" Now he was pacing back and forth and addressed the plaintiff again. "…it's not smart to do something you know is wrong is it…?" He stopped pacing and stood with his hands behind his back. "… because, one day…" He prepared to destroy the picture "… that cat might chase you!" He kicked the dirt from the cat's side of the drawing over to the dog's so now both works were destroyed. Now he just danced over the remaining pictures, not bothering to give any of them their last words. He snickered to himself as he surveyed the now dry and plain patch of dirt by the side of the road. Now dirtier than before he wished he was with his Mommy. She would get him into clean clothes in no time no questions asked. He looked over where the old man had asked him all those questions. His errand boy had returned shaking his head. 

"Oh no they didn't find her." Caleb ,holding back tears, spoke to the dirt as if it could hear him. The old man was approaching him again.

"Hello again son."

"Hi."

"I was wondering if you could describe you mommy for me."

"Well, she likes to go shopping, and likes to bake me cookies, and she-"

"Yes, but what does she look like?"

"Oh…" he looked down at his shoes embarrassed that he had made a mistake. "… she has red hair in a big ball at the top of her head.*..a bun..* and she wears a-a…" he tried to remember what mommy was wearing this morning, was it the black dress or the white dress? 

"Wait! mommy wore the black dress because she spilled tea on her white one!"

"Hmm… red hair, black dress shouldn't be too hard to find." the old man wheezed sarcastically.

"Wait , umm… she has a purse, it's black no um brown uh."

"Okay okay that's enough thank you, boy."

Caleb went back to his wall and studied the baskets surrounding the edge of the wall. He climbed in the biggest one without the merchant knowing and pretended to slay a sea monster with one swipe of his sword. 

"Ha Ha who's the best now?" Immediately he became bored of this game and sunk into the basket. The only thing protruding from the container were his ratty boots. All he did now was listen to the crowd. People selling everything from carpets to birds. He listened to the man who was selling the beat up baskets.

"Geta two for the price of one! Hey, looka you seem like a nice gentleman, how abouta-"

"No thank you sir." he heard someone answer.

"Wella how abouta this I put in a special deala just for you eh?"

"Ah uh no, good day." the person shouted , whose voice came from farther away. He laughed to himself about the salesman's poor skills. He listened again. This time the salesman was talking to a younger man who was giving him a hard time.

"Why would I want one a'yer nasty beat up baskets huh?"

"Looka I show youa they perfect condition come you see."

Nervous Caleb pulled his feet into the basket. 

"Looka see they perfect baskets." the salesman was a few baskets away. 

"How about you buy a paper from me instead, yeah?" 

Caleb laughed to himself about the man's funny accent, he fumbled with his fingers and imitated him, 

"p'hai-pah" he said to himself as he stopped to listen again. Wait a second, Caleb remembered something in his head. That voice sounds like one of mommy's friends. He wanted to jump out and see who it was but he didn't have the courage. He heard the younger man ,talking to the merchant, give a laugh and heard him walk away. From the top of his basket he could see the man's back. He was just about to shout to him when something flew in from the opening and hit him square on his forehead.

"Hey! Where'd me other pape go?" He heard the man bellow angrily searching for his lost paper. Caleb looked at what he held in his hands, a paper! He had the man's paper! Surely he would look in his basket and yell at him, maybe he would even be arrested for stealing! He heard the man getting closer and closer to his hiding place. Fears bubbling over in his head. He closed his eyes, mumbling and praying that he wouldn't be found. He heard him right beside his basket

"Hey! Kid! Waddaya do' in with me paper!?"

Scared to death he smiled innocently up at the young man's irritated face.

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*Authors' note : So what do you all think? I'm really excited about this story it's my first newsie fic! Sorry if the beginning was a little slow, I don't like to rush things.*


	2. The Clumsy Irish Champion

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Chapter summary : Caleb with help from Spot Conlon, decimates the baskets. And Caleb gets a role model, aw how cute?

Disclaimer: No, don't own Newsies or any of the characters (except Vivian and Caleb.) One question though.. If you own stock in Disney, you kinda do own newsies then don't you? You just have to share it.

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Scared to death he smiled innocently up at the young man's irritated face.

"Whaddaya doin' with me paper kid?"

"I-" Caleb tried to explain.

"What kid? Sorry fer stealin' me paper…?" He took the tips of his fingers and shoved them in his shoulder "…I don't like stealers."

Caleb stood up in his basket and rubbed his shoulder. He looked the young man over , blue shirt red suspenders, with a bag for carrying newspapers slung across his chest. He would've laughed at the silly bag if it weren't for the situation. Caleb was young, but he was smart enough to know that the young man wasn't really that upset. He was just trying to scare him into never doing that again.

"But sir, I didn't take it! I swear, it fell out of yer bag and smacked me in the face…" He stretched out his arm with the paper in question held in his hand. The newsboy's eyes looked from Caleb to the paper and back to him. Caleb shook his hand urging the boy to take the paper. "…honest." The newsboy grabbed the paper suddenly, and eased in back into his satchel, keeping his eyes on Caleb the whole time.

"So what's yer deal, kid? Livin' on the streets?" The boy suddenly seemed more cheerful now that he had his paper back.

"Nah! I live with my mother." He pointed. The newsboy looked where Caleb had motioned towards a large building entitled 'Telegram Office of New York City', he sighed then asked the tyke another question.

"You do, do ya? Well were is yer mother, then?" He said bending down to talk to Caleb face to face.

Caleb folded his arms and squinted his eyes down at a pebble, not wanting to look the boy in the eyes while he spoke. "Oh that, you see I've lost her." He gingerly lifted his eyes from the ground and looked at the boy, who was laughing.

"Oh.. ya lost her did you?"

"_They _want to help, but haven't had any luck."

The newsboy tilted his head so he could see the old man speaking to his errand boy again.

"Ha. Well, I think I can do a lot better than that. Say, what's yer name?"

"Caleb Harvey."

"Harvey? Well ,well we got ourselves a liddle English boy do we?"

"No sir…" He shook his head proudly, "…I…" now he puffed out his chest, "…am an Irishman."

The newsboy put his hands to his mouth and gasped.

"You don't say!"

Caleb was glad he impressed the older boy. "Well we have something in common…" started the newsboy, " my good lad…"he gave a big sigh, "…. I am also an Irishman." He finished taking his cap off his head and holding it up to his heart while staring up into the sky. This made Caleb laugh and in return made the older boy smile.

"So Mr. Harvey, that mother of yer's got a name?"

"Yeah, Vivian Harvey."

"Vivian Harvey?" The newsboy seemed in shock. He seemed to be thinking about this for a while until finally he turned to Caleb. He smiled again and said:

"Well, now it looks like we got two things in common."

"What?"

"We are both good friends of your mother."

"I knew you knew her! I thought you did when I first heard you--What's your name?" Caleb asked looking up into his face, no longer afraid of him. Suddenly he realized that this boy was a stranger and he just had told him his name and his mother's too!

"Oh that…"The newsboy laughed sensing his unease. "…my name's Spot Conlon" He reached down and ruffled little Caleb's hair. 

"Hungry?" Spot asked.

"Yeah!" His eyes widened.

"Yeah? Well I know a real good place to get somethin' to eat. And maybe we'll have a chance of seeing your mother there too."

"Really, that'd be so great, Spot!"

"Well Moses, let's get you out of this basket." 

Spot lifted Caleb out of the basket halfway. 

Caleb's boots, that were too big for his small feet, had caught themselves into one of the many holes in the shabby basket. Since neither noticed, Spot proceeded setting him down. At that moment Caleb felt the force on his foot and quickly lost balance. The basket that Caleb had been hiding in was attached at the bottom to a chain that linked to a shoe shining booth that was firmly in place. Not that anyone would want to buy that shabby old basket, but it was the biggest one there ,and probably in the eye of the merchant was the finest of all his inventory. 

"Argh!" Caleb fell and had dragged Spot down with him. Spot fell backwards into the other baskets, making them all topple over in a big dusty mess. This caught the merchant's attention.

"Hey! YOUA! YOU KIDS! WHATA ARE YOU DOING!" they saw the merchant fighting his way past the ruins of dust and carcasses of baskets.

The two leapt stealthy to their feet, and started to run.

"Nice going kid!" Spot yelled laughingly.

"Hey! You're the clumsy one!"

Caleb giggled as he eyed the boy running in front of him. Spot's newspaper bag wasn't as funny as he had thought earlier. It was light tan with things written all over it. In fact, Caleb's eyes grew, the sling coming across his back made him look like a , a soldier. A soldier, like in wars, conquering enemies, never afraid of anything, and always saving the day. 

Caleb uttered something under breath, "Wow"

Instantly, Spot Conlon was his hero.

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*Authors' note : Yay! I finally wrote another chapter, see I was in Ireland, so I couldn't really update it. J Tell me what you think!


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